


Understanding Women

by momasenpai



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Best Friends, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Gender or Sex Swap, M/M, Romance, Supernatural Elements, too lazy to tag anymore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-07
Updated: 2016-10-29
Packaged: 2018-08-13 13:00:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7977658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/momasenpai/pseuds/momasenpai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>America has to go through a dramatic  transformation in order to understand better women in his  nation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, I wrote this one in English, but have in mind I'm not a native English speaker. However, I think the story might be enjoyable anyway.
> 
> It's been months since I started this fic and it's still ongoing. I'll post now what I have so far and continue to write. I hope not to take too long in updating. 
> 
> Also, since it's an ongoing story, I don't know how many chapters it will have. I hope you don't mind this.
> 
> Ah, the rating may turn to M eventually.
> 
> Aaaaand, I don't like so much Nyotalia, but I find NyoAmerica way too charming, so poor Alfred will have to suffer sex swap again.

It was America’s first world meeting after that happened. The Northern country’s superiors commanded that the American should dress impeccable and professional. The style of the attire wasn’t so different from the usual, though: formal pants, blazer, but instead of oxfords, a pair of very elegant boots, and also the hairstyle had changed.

Everybody had been informed of the sudden change America had experienced, so all the rest of the countries were impatient to see what the change consisted in. They were making guesses about said American’s appearance.

“Maybe he’s become a vampire”, Romania suggested.

“That’s pretty much unlikely.” England said using his logic. “If he became a vampire, we would have been asked to attend the meeting at night”.

“But, England-san…” It was Kiku now merging in the conversation, “I’m absolutely sure America-san has now the technology to protect himself from the sun in case he became a vampire, it could still be possible he became one.”

“I believe”, this was now Canada speaking, barely audible, though. “I believe maybe he had some kind of accident while collaborating in a science experiment and might have ended like one of the heroes in his comic books.”

“Oh, non, non, non”, France laughed at those weird assumptions, “It is love, my friends. It is love. We all know love changes everything, and if something changed our dear Amérique, then, the only thing that could have done it is love.”

“Oh, come on, you frog!” England retorted starting an agitated discussion that went crescendo when many of the countries there tried to impose their opinion on the matter. The noise becoming louder and louder, only to be silenced the minute Alfred F. Jones walked in the room. The voices shouting their opinions turned into a low murmur after the first shocked gasp.

All eyes were on the newcomer, scanning from head to toes practically, which made the blond quite uncomfortable.

“Uh…. Would you people, please stop staring? It’s not like I wanted all that attention… Oh, well, yes, but not this way. Can you cut it out so we can proceed and get over with this silly meeting?”

The voice came out a little bit high pitched, and understandably annoyed, the rich tones were not gone. And as everybody went to sit down on their chairs, they couldn’t help but keep on staring. America was no monster; his body was not covered in scars or any deformity some might have guessed. There he was, as blond as ever, perfect teeth, same gestures, except the fact that he was… he was… he was a very pretty young lady, looking all elegant with her hair in a bun and discreet make-up, maybe a little bit curvy for that so formal outfit.

When his turn came to speak, everybody was still so dumbfounded that they didn’t realize that what the American was saying –some plan to reduce water contamination-, was actually kind of making sense, since it didn’t involve gigantic robots or anything of the sort, but very plausible actions. All were staring in awe, except one Russian that looked rather angry. And when the speech was finished, America let out a groan of frustration because nobody was paying attention to his words, handed a copy of the speech to Germany to be considered later, and stomped back to his place.

Back in his seat, he took the phone and texted someone.

‘Man. Can I see you after the meeting?’ (No answer).

‘Man, really. I have something very important to tell you, more like a request. Please?’ (No answer).

‘Damn it, Ivan! F*cking answer me!’

 

Finally, the Russian replied: ‘Make it short.’

 

‘Thanks, dude. I think I’ll leave through the back door. See you there. Don’t go without me, okay?’

 

‘As you wish.’

 

After the meeting, Mission Impossible was accomplished, since the North American nation was able to sneak out of the place without being noticed, very difficult accomplishment indeed, since countries like England or France wanted to jump the American and assault him with questions, even Kiku’s ninja skills failed, leaving his camera hungry for pictures.

–

In a restaurant, far away from the inquiring looks of the rest of the countries, America sat fidgeting in his chair before the still angry faced Russian.

“Man. Could you stop that? What are you so mad at me for?”

“You really don’t know?”

“Is it because I’m a g-g-girl?”

“You can be a bear, and I don’t think I could care.”

“So?”

Unexpectedly, what seemed to be a faint blush crossed Ivan’s cheeks as he started to explain, but it wasn’t clear if the blushing was because of his anger or shame or what.

“We… we were supposed to have become… friends”, he said making little pauses because he thought he would tatter if he didn’t. “And then you go and do something as drastic as having a sex change surgery without telling me a word. You… you said friends tell each other everything, but you keep me out of something of such importance.”

He hated how hurt he sounded, vulnerable. Did America really have no idea how important it was for him to finally have found someone he could call a friend? To have found someone to share with and be with, not because of fear or pity? Yes, he was aware some pitied him, damn Lithuania. Granted, their friendship was born after they both got dipsy in a party held by Italy, but then, they discovered that they had more things in common than they thought. So, in spite of their governments, in spite of all the tension surrounding them, they found a place, or better said, they created a place where they could be together as friends whenever they called each other, whenever they could steal some moments after meetings or so to talk about the silliest of things or matters that distressed them. And since he, Ivan Braginsky, never had anything close to a friend before –his sisters didn’t count, they were his sisters after all-, he trusted everything the American said to him about friendship, and now he was just feeling betrayed.

“So that was what was eating you? Me not telling you about this… this… this… um… change? It was a sudden thing.”

“Why do you lie? Do you think I’m stupid? An intervention like that requires months of preparation, a whole hormone treatment. Did you think I wouldn’t understand? It’s obvious you don’t think I’m a person to rely on, so I don’t see the point in having this ‘friendship’ anymore.”

Was that the only thing Russia was worried about?… what an insecure cute little thing –‘cute little thing’ where did that come from?-. Anyway, America didn’t know whether to run and give him a hug or slap him in the face for being so unreasonable and not letting him explain what happened, but he would have to listen, America couldn’t trust anyone else.

“Look, I never thought you were stupid, though I’m about to change my mind if you don’t stop your rant and let explain myself. And as I said before, I need you. Look man, you were the first and only person that came to my head to help me through this, so you shouldn’t feel left behind, or that your friendship isn’t important for me, okay?”

America looked him directly in the eye waiting for the other’s reaction. Then he said bluntly:

“Speak.”

How to start without sounding like a complete lunatic? America thought to himself. At least, the voice in his head remained the same, totally different to the “uhms”, “ehms”, “ahs”, and “uhms” again, escaping his lips rather girly and softly while trying to find the words to tell the other what had lead him to his current condition. And as the Russian seemed to be growing impatient, the apparently girl decided to stick to the facts, weird as they seemed.

“Well, it was like one of those stories this guy in England’s house wrote, where this mean old man is visited by some g-ghost to make him realize how mean he was.”

“Do you know you’re not making any sense?” The interlocutor interrupted. “You’re talking about ‘A Christmas Carol’. Are you for real?”

“I know it sounds like a tale, but what happened was something like that. I was playing videogames, and man, I was beating up those zombies asses. Anyway, I was concentrated in the game and then, out of nowhere, this, this being appeared in front of the t. v. I thought it was Tony at the first moment, but then I had a better look and it was the figure of a lady… with no feet!” Of course he wouldn’t tell Ivan that his scream was heard several blocks around. “It was spooky, man, really spooky.” The choice of words sounding out of place coming from the person before the Russian that resembled poorly the boy he was. It was that moment when Ivan really noticed the change in America, since just about a few minutes ago, all his attention was placed in himself and how hurt he felt. The haunted look in, well, the girl, seemed honest, so he decided to let her continue.

“Then she spoke. Dude, I’ll never forget that voice, all eerie and supernatural, though, at the same time, with a sadness that made me forget how scared I was and instead, I felt sorry for her… Ah, not that I was sooooo scared! She took me by surprise… Um, who am I trying to fool? I was, indeed, very scared. I had never seen what seemed to be a ghost before.”

“And it relates to this situation, how?” The Russian pushed.

“That’s where I’m going. Let me finish. Well, to make it short, she told me she was the Spirit of the women in my country, so she wasn’t really a ghost, which was a relief. But then, she told me about how she’s uncomfortable with the way she’s treated even though we’re living in the XXI century, how she doesn’t have full power over her own body, how her wages are different from those of men’s, how… Well, things I kinda knew, but never really looked at. And to make me see all these things the way they see them, um… she turned me into what you see. And I’m supposed to experience what they experience. And believe me, it has already started. People who are always around me and never bothered me but for some little things, are telling me now what to wear, how I should speak, controlling my schedule more than’s necessary. Man, my boss has never been bossier!”

Russia listened to the whole story without showing any expression like he believed it or not, so America was expecting his reaction. To anyone, the whole thing would have sounded like a product of lunacy, but Russia was an old country who had witnessed supernatural and other events of the sort in the past, he just didn’t like to go around spreading it to the four winds like England. He got the impression America was being sincere and decided to help in what he could.

“You said you had a request. What can I do for you in your situation?” The man in front of the girl offered calmly and still expressionless, but with warmth in his words.

“You mean you’re gonna help me? Do you believe me?” Americas’ face brightened up with excitement.

“You heard me. Now tell me what is that request you were talking about.”


	2. Promise

The sounds of costumers eating and chatting, as well as the clattering noise of silverware surrounded the meeting of the nations as they spoke.

“Well, America? What is your request? What do you need from me?”

Looking down and touching nervously the index fingers pads, America began:

“I need your help…” And the blonde couldn’t quite get finally to the point.

“For what exactly do you need my help?” Insisted the Russian putting down the teacup from which he was drinking, impatient for the long held mystery the American kept to be uncovered.

Gathering all his guts, the blonde explained somewhat shyly. “I-I need your help to… to make me a woman.”

“Pfft!”

Had America known he would end up soaked in chamomile tea all over his face, he would have chosen a better moment to drop the bomb.

“E-Excuse me?!” Obviously, those words took the Russian completely by surprise. He wasn’t expecting such a request, and couldn’t believe his ears. He lay there dumbfounded and with eyes like dishes.

“Man. What’s with that reaction?” whined the American while squeezing dry the golden tresses. “I meant to ask for your advice, or what were you thinking? Sheesh!”

“Well, you cannot blame me. You worded that in a very strange manner. But, how should I know how to advise you in the matter, you could ask… I don’t know… Hungary… Oh! My sister Katyusha would be perfect. She’s sweet, caring and very feminine.”

“Yeah, yeah, and she acts all girly, and has the biggest boobs I’ve ever seen. Natural, I mean. But as much as I like her, we’re not so close; I can’t really call her my friend, I mean, she’s a friend, but you’re MY friend. I don’t know if I’m making any sense.”

“Mhh… ‘Big boobs?’ ‘Acts girly?’ You do need help with your concept of what a woman is. What I am saying is you can’t define a woman so bluntly, or rather, so lightly…

“You see? You’re already helping.”

“Anyway... I am glad you consider me a friend, but what made you think I am suitable for this task?”

“It’s easy. I saw one o your movies… What was it called… Like ‘Moscow Does Not Believe in Tits’, or something like that.”

“Tears.”

“Hah?”

“Moscow Does Not Believe in Tears’. That is the name of the movie.”

“Oh, yeah, well. Whatever. The thing is, it’s maybe kinda the stuff I need to learn?”

“Seriously? You went and watched a communist movie? Didn’t your eyes burn in flames?” Laughed the Russian thinking at how desperate might the American been to try and look for a kind of an answer in something he despised and mocked before, when they were enemies.

“Hey!”

“But, please, tell me. Where did you see the movie? I don’t think you watched it at your place”.

“Nope. Nope. I was paying a visit to my old fella Mexico, you know, I was running away for a while from my tormentors at home. One night I was zapping the t.v. There was this Russian Film Festival in one of the channels and it piqued my curiosity. I didn’t see the movie from the beginning, but I think I grasped the idea of it. It seemed your women had lots of rights in your country, but of course, in their personal lives, they still had to fight the old prejudices of male superiority and stuff.”

“I guess it is sad to inform you that women nowadays in my country are not in much better than in yours. They held more rights during the communist era, but in many cases, it was just propaganda and not a substantial issue. There were many women involved in the Revolution, and they achieved much better conditions for women in general than they ever had, but once Stalin became the boss, a number of those achievements diminished. Anyway, I suppose you could get inspiration from women in your own country, see their needs, pay more attention.

"But it’s not like I can really approach them, and I’m not supposed to only observe, I was told I had to experience, but I don’t know how to do that, and, and, and… And I can’t do this alone! Help me! Help me, please!”

“Alright, alright” Russia tried to calm down the girl, I mean, boy, slightly patting him on the shoulder. “I will do my best to help you. I promise.”

“You promise?”

“I do.”

“Super-duper!” Exclaimed excited the American and reached across the table to hug his savior spilling his extra large soda in the process (he still wasn’t used to have breasts), in a destiny’s delayed display of instant karma.


	3. Chapter 3

The key entered the somewhat rusty lock and America was in Russia’s place. The blond had expected it to be an old big house as the one his guest once shared with other nations in the past, but on second thought, it would be a bother to have such a large mansion just to himself, not only because cleaning it would be a pain in the ass, but because it would also make solitude more tangible. In some of the long chats they held, the Russian had mentioned his dislike for the feeling of loneliness he’d been having ever since the countries that once shared their lives with him had left him, eager to taste again the sensation of freedom, Alfred was sure, but never mentioned his reasoning to his disheartened friend. Those events were buried in the past and there was nothing Russia could do to fix it, so why saying anything that would only bite harder at the Russian’s already battered heart.

Even so, America hadn’t expected the current choice of habitation of the Russian were to be so simple considering his glorious past before the Communist Revolution, and now, being the host country of some of the richest men on earth; yes, that was right, right?, and America himself had helped because once the Eurasian giant opened its economy to the Occident, new tycoons emerged from it, something never seen in the latest years in Russian history, so the American had to ask.

“Hm… Hey man? No offence, but, why do you live in a hole?”

“Ha, ha, ha”, laughed amused the Russian, Alfred’s choice of words lately had this effect on him; they made him feel warm in the heart, though he never dared say it. Even when words were not precisely nice, the tone, the phrasing, showed no malice; he was though, taken aback by the question.

“Well, I wasn’t really expecting to have guests in here. Also, when you said that you wanted advice, I thought maybe, I don’t know… use the internet, or the phone.”

“Ah, no. And stay at my place listening to the endless preaching of my tormentors? No, thank you.”

“What can I do then, Alfred? If you don’t feel comfortable here, I’ll find you a fine hotel if you want.”

“Oh, no, no. You don’t have to do that. It’s cool. I was just wondering… I just thought you might want to re-live your glorious days at the tsars court. Like when I first met you. I gotta say in all honesty, you were very impressive back in the day; I was perhaps a little envious? So why not?”

“I-I was not very fond of the tsars, actually.”

“Are you kidding me?! The built one o the greatest empires in the world! Why wouldn’t you like them?”

“It’s simple: they built that great empire on the bleeding backs of my people. I mean, as a country, on the outside, I was big, impressive, as you say, and powerful, but my entrails were always aching. I felt my people’s pain so very deep it was sometimes unbearable. In a personal level, some of my tsar bosses were nice, sensitive people, like Nicholas, also his wife, Alexandra, and their sweet children, those innocents, but I was not happy at all with the way the empire was being held.

“You… You were a revolutionary… I-I always thought you were forced by your communist bosses…

“I was a revolutionary, yes. Are we not the incarnation of the will of our people after all? Revolution did not turn out as many of us thought it would be; in the end, I felt betrayed, but then again, I had to comply with the new bosses’ ways and try to make the best for my country with the given conditions. You thought they forced me? No, I believed in communism. It gave me hope after years and years of seeing the pain of my beloved people. If… If after knowing this you don’t feel like we can keep on being friends, I… I will understand…”

A rebellious slow tear rolled down the Russian’s cheek. America’s heart jolted at the sight of it, feeling sorry for bringing back those painful memories, but the American knew too that besides those memories, the Russian was also suffering at the possibility of losing the one friend he managed to get, and all for the stupid, stupid reason that he didn’t understand why he lived in such a simple place. On the other hand, the sunny blonde thought he didn’t mess it up so badly after all. Alfred could have bet that the Slavic country had kept what he said locked in his heart for far too long, and by voicing it, he might have had some sort of relief. Also, being told something so intimate by the Russian just confirmed him he had been right trusting him and only him because that meant their friendship was authentic and he could truly rely on him.

“Don’t be silly” reassured the boy turned to girl. “We’re cool again, aren’t we? I’m sorry for bringing this up so lightly, I didn’t know. I didn’t mean to make you sad”. America’s finger pads reached the lonely tear the Russian failed to suppress, wipe it off was the intention, but just as rebellious as the tear, the touch refused to be just a touch, it became a caress. Maybe in another situation it would be an awkward moment, but somehow, they paid no mind to it. With a smile, the Russian continued to show the place to the American. Night was close so they went to the kitchen to fix something to eat before going to bed, it had been a long day with the trip and all so they were hungry and tired and really needed a rest.

“Please, America, have a seat I’ll prepare something to eat.”

“Yo’ need a hand?”

“Don’t worry. I can handle it.”

After a few minutes, Alfred had before him a bowl with oatmeal, milk and some fruits. It was simple, but looked tasty, especially after having an empty stomach for quite some while. As soon as he caught a sniff of the food, his mouth started watering and his irises dilated, then all of a sudden, he attacked the bowl with enthusiasm, eating as if he hadn’t eaten in ages, all the time, making “yum” sounds. Ivan couldn’t help but stare with amusement, thinking that, despite the looks, his friend hadn’t changed at all.


End file.
